Share my excitement and my discoveries as I delve ever deeper into the world of prints and printmakers

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

A plein-air etcher: Philip Gilbert Hamerton

Philip Gilbert Hamerton was born in the hamlet of Laneside near Oldham, Lancashire, in 1834. Initially intending to be a painter, he turned to art criticism. His works include Etching and Etchers, Contemporary French Painters, and Painting in France after the Decline of Classicism. In 1870 Hamerton founded the magazine The Portfolio, which he edited until his death in 1894. While he is still remembered as the encourager and promoter of other etchers, the fact that Philip Gilbert Hamerton was himself an etcher of real accomplishment has been almost forgotten. The 37 etchings of scenes on the river Arroux that he selected for his book The Unknown River in 1871 have the particular Impressionistic charm of etchings made in the open air, during the course of a canoeing holiday. Hamerton meticulously prepared 60 etching plates for this trip, fixing them to drawing boards which were then placed in a series of grooved boxes that were then sent ahead to inns along the river, so that Hamerton's stock of prepared plates was constantly replenished.

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Pre Charmoy

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Voudenay-le-Château

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Near Voudenay

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Cathedral and Bishop's Palace, Autun

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Genetoie

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Near Ornay

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Recuange I

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Gueugnon

Etching, 1871

Hamerton was influenced in his artistic thinking by the French plein-air artists of the Barbizon School, the forerunners of Impressionism; like the Impressionists, he was perfectly at ease adding industrial chimneys to a rural view, as in the etching of Gueugnon. At the end of The Unknown River, he writes, "No art is more agreeable for direct work from nature than etching is. The rapidity of it, and its freedom, are greatly in its favour, and so is its remarkable independence of damp and wet. Many of the plates in this series were immersed in the river, after being etched, when the artist was upset; others were executed in bad weather, with the rain literally pouring over the copper in a manner which would have rendered any other kind of drawing quite impossible." Some of Hamerton's amusing self-portraits make the most of the various trials and tribulations suffered in the course of his "etcher's voyage of self-discovery."

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Danger Ahead

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, A Difficult Place

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Crossing a Field

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Seeking Shelter

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, A Night in the Canoe

Etching, 1871

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Portrait of Tom

Etching, 1871

Hamerton's 1876 work The Sylvan Year has etchings by various artists, including Auguste André Lançon, Léopold Massard, and Edmond Hédouin, alongside plates by Hamerton himself. My copy of this handsome work appears to have been a presentation gift from Queen Victoria, something I only noticed when preparing this post.

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Ancient Chestnuts

Etching, 1876

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Rivulet in a Forest

Etching, 1876

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Cottages in a Valley

Etching, 1876

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, Shepherd and Sheep

Etching, 1876

Philip Gilbert Hamerton, In a Wood at Moonrise

Etching, 1876

It is no doubt just that Philip Gilbert Hamerton, like his great contemporary John Ruskin, is remembered primarily as a critic rather than as an artist - but I would not like his delicate and unpretentious art to be completely forgotten. Having lived most of his adult life in France (his wife was French), Philip Gilbert Hamerton died in Boulogne-sur-Mer in 1894.

8 comments:

How wonderful. I especially like the everyday side of the subject matter - those factory chimneys, the casual ladders, rootling pigs, and the overloaded cart. And the humour of his self(presumably)-portraits. I can imagine him chucking his etching plate in the water when it all got too much - then sheepishly retrieving it - something that is not advisable with modern technology.

So pleased you like them Phil - the text is very lively, too, in a One Man in a Canoe kind of way. I think the upsetness is more to do with falling out of the canoe than being unhappy, though who knows! The date I have given for the Unknown River series is the date of publication, 1871, but the voyage and the etchings were made in 1870 - quite crucial, as the Franco-Prussian war intervened between the idyllic trip and its published form.

I don't know anything about Hamerton, but I'm guessing his own work made him a better critic. I've not thought of etching as a "fast" medium. You can tell where his affections lie, the scenes with the boat and of Tom are irresistible.

Engraving is always a slow process, but etching can be as rapid as making a sketch (though of course the metal plate then has to be bitten with acid back in the studio). But the problem with etching in the field is the weight of the plates, and I think Hamerton was quite unusual in his determination to lug all his etching kit with him. More usually an etcher such as Edgar Chahine, in his travels in Italy, would sketch in a sketchbook in the day and transfer the sketches to the etching plate back in the hotel room. The immediacy Hamerton achieves by sketching directly onto the plate is quite striking; and I too enjoy the self-mocking scenes with the canoe. The dog Tom (a setter) is quite a character in the book. You may enjoy Hamerton's description of him: "Tom is a dog of immense energy when out of doors, and the most listless indolence at home. He will run a hundred miles in a day, or swim fifteen, but he will not walk across the room without the most elaborate preparation in the way of stretchings which he believes to be necessary, and when the little distance is at last accomplished he falls down with a grunt as if extenuated by fatigue."

Thank you for that! It's perfect to anyone who has ever lived with a dog. Did he write things other than art criticism, then? I think one reason we let books go out of print is to limit the comparisons with our own work.

Yes, he wrote quite a miscellany, including two novels, and the rather wonderfully titled Human Intercourse. He seems to have been a very good-natured fellow. He was a great admirer of Ralph Waldo Emerson.

I love this post and the work of Gilbert Hamerton. I have heard of other artists sketching directly onto their plates in the field. The weight is certainly a factor but to me the most confusing part would be having to draw everything in reverse! How could an artist cope with that while sketching? Or perhaps they simply allow their finished etched image to be a mirror image of what they actually saw?

You're right, Nancy, drawing in reverse would be a challenge. I just tried to Google images of some of the scenes in Hamerton's etchings, but I couldn't find anything definitive to say whether they are accurate or mirror images. So far as I can see Hamerton's text makes no mention of the matter. But my feeling is that he probably did draw in reverse, if only because it would be obvious to many readers if named buildings, bridges and villages were all depicted the wrong way round.